


home? home.

by Laeana



Series: built our house on glory (2020 podium) [6]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: (daniel and nico vaguely in the background), Best Friends, Celebrations, Childhood Friends, Comfort, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, POV Alternating, Poidum, Restaurants, Self Confidence Issues, Spanish GP 2020, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26102350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana
Summary: And when they realize it, it's already too late.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc, Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly/Max Verstappen
Series: built our house on glory (2020 podium) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833505
Kudos: 30





	home? home.

The first time they realize it, it’s already far beyond any reach. Love. Oh, that’s love and it hurts somehow more than they thought it would.

Uncertainties.

The fear before anything else. What’s like to grow up with that kind of anomaly, what’s like to love not one man but two at once? It’s like they’re burning every bridge and every hope of ever, ever living carefree.

Pierre becomes aware of it during his fall. During the whole Redbull-ToroRosso thing, as Charles holds him carefully, scared he’ll fall apart, and as Max’s words echo to his ears. So sorry. He didn’t know where to look. He didn’t know how to look properly at him.

And at that moment, Pierre wonders where that proud lion went and, eventually, wants it back. 

He bounces back.

Always, always. He learned how to play that game too well. He learned how to play with fire, until get burned, and he learned how to keep going, even with burnt flesh. 

He plays nice. But this stays stuck in his throat. What he believed in, what he wanted, what he thinks he deserved, in the end.

Not Charles.

Not Max.

But both.

That makes his stomach sink further. That makes him wonder what he’s even doing and he’s never been such a matchmaker either. He knows the two other drivers can get along well and that they like him but get along enough to date ? 

He doesn’t even think it can be possible. He doesn’t think about it. He just focuses on his career, on living day by day, without caring about anything else.

* * *

Charles doesn’t really care. He knows a lot of things could happen, he knows who he is. He knows how to use his face to get what he wants. It’s not something that does concern him though.

He doesn’t even think about it, doesn’t even consider it. 

Until he hears the bet.

Daniel and Nico are betting on them. He freezes then steps in, confident. He doesn’t like to be used, he prefers using others. He smiles politely.

And takes part in the bet.

It all concerns Max so he forgets about Pierre for a bit. Right now, he can win a favor from the two oldest and he wants to ridicule them as much as he can. The flirty awkward weird relationship he has with Max should be enough.

And is enough.

He brushes aside Pierre’s asks a bit too much, makes a mental note to apologize later, he’s on the hunt. An ultimate target: a certain Dutch f1 driver.

He already said it. He knows how to get what he wants. Max is not the most difficult, he’s sure of it.

He refuses to admit he has a bit of trouble entirely getting to him.

* * *

Annoyed isn’t the right term. Max’s never totally annoyed when it’s about Charles. Mix of feelings sinking down his throat. Wonders and hypotheses all around and he just thinks why?. 

Not really pleased that this game went to an end when he hasn’t decided it. Plus, he was trying so hard to keep in touch with Pierre and Charles is right now destroying all of his efforts.

He knows it, okay. He knows his attraction towards those two boys is not the easiest thing to deal with but he can.

Somehow.

If Charles can stop taking all of his time. Exhausting now. Every here and there, too close.

Temptation.

Then the monegasque reveals the bet made and he smiles widely because, oh boy, he wants to win that bet. He wants to take it whatever it costs. As if they personally offended him, them.

True devils. Both of them.

He catches just in time the sigh Pierre let out, quickly looking away from them kissing.

* * *

It’s not painful. Not at all. Just kind of disappointing ? Pierre will not confess those feelings in the end, probably better that way.

Living his daily life, without looking back.

So he doesn’t look back to where Max and Charles stand. Not anymore. He can’t do it, it’s costing him too much and he still hasn’t time to care.

He smiles and laughs out loud, more than ever, cheerful, a bit fake, hoping it would become real. By time. Quicker than expected. Letting go.

People can’t run away forever but he feels like he could do it. It just takes one step more and one more ignored call to have a good night of sleep. To stop his thoughts from coming back and forth and back and forth until he feels numb.

It turns out Charles and Max, however, don’t like to be ignored - at all.

When he finds them out his door, a Saturday morning, weekend of break, he doesn’t know what to say nor how to react. He let them in and thinks he’s going to regret it.

He regrets it.

The very first second of it.

* * *

Pierre has been in his life for so many years Charles stopped counting. A constant presence. He couldn’t see himself without him. A hole in his life. A big one ready so swallow him whole.

Too many calls no returned, messages that weren’t even read. He had enough.

Max had enough too. 

Same smile on their faces as they forcefully decided to go to Pierre’s door for answers. He won’t leave until he gets them, no matter how many times it will take.

“Oh. I didn’t expect you here.” starts softly, carefully, the Frenchman.

“Well, we could have told you we were coming if you hadn’t apparently shut your phone off.”

A flash of guilt comes across Pierre’s face and it looks so ugly on him that Charles wants to lean in to kiss him. To make it disappear - and never come back.

“Not my phone,” says drily the oldest one, without looking at them “Your numbers.”

He opens his mouth but words fail him. Surprised. Too much.

What ?

* * *

Max steps forward before his sidekick even has time to react and grabs Pierre’s wrist. Willingly not letting go, not letting him run away from their fight. At any cost.

“How long are you gonna flee from it?”

He knows he maybe said the wrong thing when the tension on Pierre’s shoulders raise; he doesn’t seem to trust him but to think it as a joke. The whole of it.

“What ? You’ll force me to talk ?”

He searches for an answer but doesn’t find one. Pierre frees himself from his grip.

“What I thought. Close the door behind you when you leave, thanks.”

He watches, powerless, as Pierre walks toward another room - the one he supposes to be the bedroom - and still, no words come to his mouth. Speechless, for a second, a moment.

Not the right one.

“Pierre.”

The older one’s wrist is taken, not by him this time but by Charles who cautiously stepped aside in the beginning of the talk but who suddenly seems to have found a second wind.

“Don’t go.”

And Pierre shivers, but he doesn’t make any other move.

* * *

Bad idea, bad idea, terrible idea. Something like this rings to his ears and he wipes off the panic in his lungs. Not the right time to panic. Pierre stands still, waiting for Charles to say anything. Any word.

It’s easier to resist Max, to reply, recklessly, because they have less bounds. It doesn’t mean he values him less than Charles, that’s not true, but he has more years siding with Charles than with Max. 

“Do you love us ?”

It hurts. It hurts and hurts and hurts to hear this question. It reminds him of everything he wanted to forget about, because he thought it was impossible, out of reach.

It is said softly, barely a whisper, just enough to raise into the silence that settled in the room. Max and Charles have both their eyes on him, expecting. He closes his.

“Yes. Yes, I ... yes.”

He hesitates a moment but the question is eating him up inside.

“How do you know ?”

He waits still, but every exit of the room seems too welcoming to him. He just wants to get out of here but is stuck. 

“Max saw the glances you were peeking at us. How sad you looked, how you closed when the couple-thing came on the topic.”

“It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together.”

“Oh, great. Now I know I was awfully obvious and pathetic. Thanks.” he mouths, bitter, rolling his eyes, because he doesn’t know what to do next.

They all seem to expect something to happen.

* * *

“It wasn’t because it was obvious ...” Max tries but it seems shaky and he, himself, hesitates on the right words to put.

Charles rubs the back of his boyfriend gently, smiling at him. He has to do something he knows that. Max’s frustration is evident.

“It was because Max has his eyes on you a lot. As I did.”

The words take time to reach correctly Pierre’s here and even when they did so he stands still, frozen, unable to trust what he just hears.

“But ...” Pierre tries before shaking his head “Why ? Why me, why all of this ? Why ?”

“Because you’re beautiful” his thumb caress Pierre’s cheek slightly and he feels like he waited forever to say it “and we want you to be ours.”

“Like ...”

“Like we love you. A lot.” ends Max and he can see the older one breaking, piece by piece. 

He reaches him just in time and takes him in his arms. It doesn’t take long before Max adds to the hug and they stand, them three, in the middle of the room. But he doesn’t want to move.

He wants to stay like this a while, maybe forever.

* * *

A broken laugher through the room. Max leans to kiss Pierre’s damaged lips, feeling a trace of a biting on it. Nervousness? Probably.

“Is it okay for you ?” he whispers softly, a breath away from Pierre’s mouth, the arm Charles wrapped around them tightening.

“Of course.”

He returns to those lips and Charles starts to work behind them, leaving hot kisses on Pierre’s neck. They need to comfort him, they both know that.

Their champion, their loved one. The last missing piece. 

“You’re ours.” says Charles, with confidence, pride, and from here he can see a bright smile on his face.

Pierre hums quietly, taking things easy, letting them take care of him.

“And you’re mine.”

Max nods, satisfied. Happy. Things may get complicated but he doesn’t give a damn. He’s just where he belongs.

* * *

“Lando knows about us !”

That’s what throws Max while entering the room. Pierre, already curled up in Charles’ arms, lifts the blanket to invite him in the embrace.

“Why did you tell him ?”

Curiosity not a reproach.

“Because” Max interrupts when he gets rid of his shirt “I didn’t want to ruin his relationship with Carlos because of us.”

“Trouble in paradises ?” Charles says with a pout, seeming interested suddenly.

“Just us being a bit too obvious for Lando and him searching for the truth.”

“Obvious ?” 

Pierre laughs a bit but Max finally lay down on their bed. He hums softly, surrounded by his two boyfriends. What can he ask more ? Honestly.

“Good race week?”

“Bad, terrible.” answers Charles.

Pierre and Max hold back a laugher and he quietly kisses his monegasque’s cheek.

“Not that bad I guess.”

“Second place for Max Verstappen and yet he still isn’t happy about it.”

Charles’ irony is a bit scathing, Max mumbles against his neck and he shivers a bit while feeling his breath on his skin.

“It’ll never be enough, you know it.”

Pierre rolls his eyes. He doesn’t care being left aside when it’s that kind of subject. He cares more about this little quarrel his two lovers always bring in. One day, it could end badly.

“Can we fucking stop talking for a second ? Yes, thank you, not anymore.” he says firmly before resuming when Charles opens his mouth “No, Charles, if it’s for staying on that topic, no thanks.”

His monegasque keeps quiet and Max, better than arguing, lifts his two hands as a gesture of peace.

“Good.”

* * *

Pierre’s authoritarian, domineering tone is definitely something. It always has an effect on Charles and he wonders if it’s the kind of kink he can assume with no problems.

But Max seems pretty fond of it too. They’re the same, again.

No after race celebrations then ? he’s quite disappointed even if he’s the one who brought a bit of venom in their discussion. He really loves after race celebrations. Sex and sweet words and champagne on their skins.

When Max and he made a podium, how good it was to celebrate it with their boyfriend.

“...and a celebration ?” he manages to say, and his partners seem so surprised he somehow wants to take back his words.

“Babe, I just thought you-”

But Pierre is interrupted by Max who let out a quick sound. Approval. 

“But both of you did great right ? I’m sorry for being too ... stubborn or I don’t know ...”

Pierre and Max exchange a look and right after Max leaves the room in a hurry. Pierre stays by his side and kisses him softly again and again until his lips are swollen.

“We love you as you are, Charles. Nothing more nothing less. You’re doing great, sweetheart, really great. There’s no one Max would like to compete against more than you.”

“You’re forgetting Lando.”

“Of course not. And if anything ever happens, I’m still here. For both of you.”

Charles can only be speechless by his boyfriend’s confidence. Quiet in the beginning, unsure, uneasy, Pierre has grown up positive and opened himself to them. Now it was his turn to comfort him.

It doesn’t take long before Max joins them.

“Stand up, come on come on ! We’re awaited.”

Confused, he does what Max tells them but in the middle of his actions, he freezes.

“Where ?”

“At the San Rivera.”

His favorite restaurant. Expensive, the hardest to get a table, but their cocktails are worth it. Really. Charles wonders how much it costed Max to get a table.

He smiles.

It’s not exactly the same relationship between him and Max than between him and Pierre, but each day, the Dutch shows him how he loves him. Different ways but still.

* * *

Max, in fact, didn’t reserve a table, but an entire room. Because he likes privacy and he likes not being interrupted when he’s with his boyfriends.

Charles’ eyes shine when he enters the restaurant and is led to their seats.

“Thanks, darling.” the monegasque whispers before kissing his cheek and he grabs his chin to kiss his mouth instead.

“You should also thank Pierre, we thought about it together.”

Charles leans to kiss Pierre in turn. The Frenchman hums softly in answer. They all sit around and the smile doesn’t leave Charles’ face at all during the evening. 

The monegasque lays his hands on theirs. And when the touches become more and more intimate, Max knows it’s time to bring them back to bed.

Bring them back to their home.

Living together. Them three. Not always the easiest thing to hide but it is worth it. Every single suspicious glance, every single accusation, every single excuses, are worth it.

Waking up by their side, living by their side, eating by their side.

Daily life.

“Bravo, champ’.” says simply Pierre, leaving a ghostly touch on his cheek, knowing better than to disturb him while he is driving.

Charles leans in front, almost desperate to have contact with them, since he’s left in the backseat.

He looks at Pierre briefly, only a glance, to see his blue eyes shining in the obscurity.

“You’re amazing too, love. Way too amazing.”

He can see the older one blushing in the corner of his eyes.

“And me?”

The question of Charles makes them both smile.

“Perfect. Simply perfect.” 

Charles likes being praised but him admitting that easily is enough to make him blush too. He holds back a laugher when he sees the red color on his cheeks.

“Do we still have some champagne in the fridge ? I think we’re not really done showering here.”

But the monegasque”s question isn’t for him but for Pierre, he realizes. Pierre has a crooked smile.

“A whole bottle. Ready for us to use it.”

“Great.”

Pierre and Charles exchange a look and he doesn’t know what it is about. Well, doesn’t know yet. Almost sure he’ll discover their plan later.

Celebration sex. As always.

He nods slowly at the atmosphere in the car. Daring, bold. They are bold. All of them. They dare confront whatever awaits them. As long as they are together.

Soon they’ll reach their apartment, he can already imagine the impatient looks they’ll exchange before getting off their clothes as quickly as possible. He can feel their teeth on his skin, the laugher when they’re doing mistakes (because it still is clumsy sometimes), the trail of kisses they’ll leave (marks if they aren’t in race week), the sweat, how the room will become hotter and hotter as the minutes pass ...

He can imagine all of this and, suddenly, he’s more than in a hurry to reach their home.

Their home.

**Author's Note:**

> once again, here I am, writing on those three together ... it gave me the perfect occasion to complete my "built our house on glory" serie and I absolutely loved writing their beginning together, as a couple !   
> what did you think about it ?
> 
> tumblr's laeana is ever you want to talk about anything :))


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